The Raven and the Angel
by hollysarena
Summary: Hugin's point of view of the greenhouse scene in City of Bones. Hugin has unnerving feelings towards Jace and watching him and Clary grow closer is hardly comfortable. Super crackship.


**I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. I just posted this on my tumblr blog for some friends but I might as well chuck it on here as well. ****It's really not as funny as it should be, but oh well. Feel absolutely free to flame, haha.**

**DISCLAIMER: **Okay, so as this is Hugin's point of view of an already existing scene in City of Bones, the dialogue isn't mine. It's the original dialogue from the book and it belongs entirely to Cassandra Clare. I am not her. So, please don't sue me. Kthanx.

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><p>Hugin had never liked the greenhouse. Despite being a bird, the appeal of perching in a tree had never made sense to him. No, his place on his master's shoulder was much more pleasant. However, when he was required to spy on someone - something he prided himself on - it did not matter where he had to hide. He would fly into the pit of an awakening volcano if his master so much as suggested to do so.<p>

It was slowly reaching midnight. Outside in New York City, Hugin knew that those ugly mechanical beings were still roaring in the streets, lights blaring. He didn't like it outside of the Institute either; he missed Alicante, the home of his master.

After settling himself into a branch covered with charcoal blossoms - _all the better to hide myself_, he thought - his attention was brought to the greenhouse door. Voices, soft and affectionate, wafted into the flowering room and tangled with the dark scent of the damp earth.

"Wow." It only took the mere sound of the fiery haired girl's voice to make Hugin's avian stomach churn. He watched as she turned slowly, taking the room in with fresh awe. The look on her face was similar to the one she had when she looked at Jace. The very same look that made Hugin want to peck that face into oblivion. "It's so beautiful here at night."

Frankly, Hugin would've said that the time of day did not matter - trees were trees - but then he saw the way that Jace grinned at her. He did not like that one bit. Nor the way the golden-eyed boy had revealed that they 'had the place to themselves'. His master had asked him to keep an eye on the growing relationship between the pair, but he hadn't exactly disallowed sabotaging it.

While an unfamiliar feeling burned in Hugin's chest, Jace and Clary moved to sit beneath a particularly boring shrub, speckled with buds that were yet to bloom. The ebony bird felt a jolt of satisfaction; if Jace was really trying to impress the girl, he would've picked one of the more beautiful plants in the room. Instead, he had settled for something that reflected, in Hugin's opinion, Clary's personality.

_Bland, blander and blandest. _

He continued to watch as Jace produced an array of food, including his cheese sandwiches that Hugin was so fond of. There was something in the way the boy managed to put just the right amount of cheese between each slice of bread. It was never too thick, never too thin. It was always just right. It was one of the many things Hugin loved about him.

The bird's feelings towards the young Shadowhunter hadn't appeared out of nowhere. No, there was a very precise, incredibly chemically charged moment in time in which the destinies of both feathery friend and angel blooded hunk collided. In fact, as if reading Hugin's mind, Jace began to tell Clary about the day Fate brought them together.

"Well, when I was five, I wanted to take a bath in spaghetti."

Suddenly, the blurred memory hit Hugin in a wash of watercolours. The small boy with the golden curls, peeking cheekily from behind the bathroom door. From his hair, strands of spaghetti were hung, sticking to his chubby, round face. Hugin had been a mere chick and had never felt any feeling other than loyalty - until then.

At first, Hugin had felt a small amount of resentment towards the boy and the way his master spent his time teaching him. But as the years passed, the small boy began to grow towards becoming a man – _no_, Hugin corrected him, _a divinity _– and the bird could lie to himself no longer. Jace's love had ruffled his feathers like a blizzard disturbed the snow; he was trapped, completely and utterly trapped.

Whenever he thought about Jace, which was whenever his master had not required his attention, it was as if he slipped into a different consciousness. This consciousness was not one he had been aware of before, and while his mind had once been filled with a smothering darkness, it now swelled with light.

There had been a time – a single instance – in which the boy had become attached to another bird. At this time, Hugin had been outraged, but as well as anger there was a spark of hope. If Jace could learn to love such a savage beast, it would be too easy for Hugin to slip into his heart.

That was until his master broke the falcon's neck, Hugin's chances and, therefore, his heart. It wasn't long after when Hugin was also sent away from his home, banished to the shoulder of another – _Hodge_. Any dull, desperate dream of his golden soul mate crumbled inside of him. He would not see the boy again.

"… After my dad died, she changed a lot." The girl – her name, Clarissa, was not one his master would've chosen – spoke, bringing the raven back into the present. Jace was watching her intently now, his eyes the colour of maple and brushing over her face.

One of his light, delicate eyebrows rose on his forehead. "Do you remember your father?"

Hugin knew the answer would be 'no'. Hugin knew more about the girl than he would like, but it was what he knew and what she didn't that kept him in the greenhouse. She shook her head, just as he thought.

"No, he died before I was born." _Lies_. The word hissed in thoughts, laced with a smugness that almost brought a smile to his beak. Well, as close to a smile that was possible for a bird.

Jace's voice suddenly deepened with the subtle ache of loneliness. The mere sound almost sent Hugin flying to his side, his beak aching to nuzzle against the boy in comfort. "You're lucky," he said. "That way you don't miss him."

It puzzled Hugin how humans could be so… stupid, for lack of a better word. How could they not know that the man they both spoke of was the same? Of course, it was vital that the pair stay in the dark – if it wasn't, Hugin had disrupted this sickening affair days ago.

But no, his master had returned after those long seven years, burdening the raven with a mission beyond what he had ever dreamed. To follow the girl and boy who made a sunset – of blazing red and shimmering aureate – while they fell into a plan that would tear their world apart. His job was to ensure that his master knew every detail, every silken whisper and secret smile; in the end, it would be their downfall.

Jace had pressed something into Clary's hand – a witchlight rune stone – to which she was eyeing it confusedly. What could his master have possibly been thinking? This girl knew nothing of their world. How could someone who was as inane as a new born be the key to his master's success? Especially someone who threw herself recklessly into situations she did not understand. Hugin had thought that his master's style was logical and thought out – not acting on a passing whim.

Clary finally slipped the rock into her pocket. "Well, thanks. It was nice of you to give me anything." Something about the air between pleased Hugin – it was thick, heavy and awkward. "Better than a bath in spaghetti any day."

Jace responded, his voice thick, dark and reminding Hugin of his master's, "If you share that little bit of personal information with anyone, I may have to kill you."

_Please do_, the bird thought, a flurry of images coming to mind – all different situations involving Clary's death. His particular favourite method involved a number of bamboo sticks and—

Out of the corner of his eye, something caught his attention. It was small, green and fidgeting. Now, while Hugin despised the greenhouse and had no interest in trees, the things that inhabited the lush vegetation were another matter entirely. Caterpillars happened to be his personal favourite.

He flicked his eyes briefly to Clary and Jace. They were engrossed in a conversation of the girl's past birthday wishes – to be put in the dryer (whatever that was) and a mark of a turtle on her shoulder. He also noticed with brief satisfaction the way Jace had averted his gaze when she lowered her shirt strap.

Once he was sure they were distracted enough with each other (this time on the subject of the Lightwood girl), he shifted ever so carefully towards the luminous green larvae that wriggled along the branch. That was the best thing about caterpillars – they hadn't quite evolved in a way that endorsed speed.

It would only take a few subtle hops along this branch, and a single flutter up onto the one above, and Hugin's desire for the caterpillar would be satiated. His feet moved carefully, his talons gripping the wood quietly but tightly.

One hop, two hop, three. The bird was so close he could feel the caterpillar's juices running down his throat. It had spotted him by now, rooted to a leaf as it desperately tried to blend it. This was pointless; Hugin had him exactly where he wanted him. With a sharp push, his wings beat upwards and he captured the grub between within beak. It tossed and turned, trying to escape in vain, before he swallowed it down hungrily. At least he had gained something out of this stake out, he noted.

But had the caterpillar been worth watching the love of his life kiss another?

As he looked back to the pair, he watched as Clary pressed her body into Jace's, winding her fingers into his hair in a way Hugin had always wanted to. Not only did he feel disgusted at the sight of intimacy between them, but a jealous longing built in his gut. With his sharp, avian talons, he would never be able to give Jace what Clary could. Jace's arms were around her, holding her against him as if she were the only oxygen left for him in the entire universe.

That unfamiliar burning consumed him once more. It shocked him in waves, each harder and hotter than the last. Every instinct in his body was telling him one thing: _attack, attack, attack_. But he could not. His master had made him vow not to harm the girl. Still, the feeling of raging jealously – feverous and scorching – pulsed through his body, forcing his wings to flutter hard and angry.

All of his life, he had wanted Jace to notice him and in that moment, he did.

"Don't panic," the blonde boy said, his arms still woven around Clary's body. His eyes were on Hugin – molten amber, darkened with passion, "but we've got an audience."

The girl turned her head, eyes wide with surprise. She studied him with a contempt that caused his talons itch. Such a pretty, delicate, freckled face; it would have been such a pleasure to ruin.

Jace began to murmur to her, the words too soft for Hugin to hear. What he did catch was a single phrase, "We should go."

"Is he _spying _on you?" Clary whispered sharply, moving slightly away from Jace. "Hodge, I mean."

"No. He just likes to come up here to think. Too bad – we were having such a scintillating conversation."

With a silent laugh, Jace lead Clary towards the door and out of the greenhouse. Hugin remained still for a while, his small intelligent brain taking a few moments to process his findings. While the burn of the jealousy was still smouldering through every nerve of his body, he reminded himself that no matter what happened, their dalliance would not last. Once his master's plan moved into full action, they would not be able to stand the sight of each other.

And with Clary gone, Jace would be alone. This was not the first time the boy would find himself attached to a bird, Hugin knew, but he was going to make damn sure it would be the last.

Jace Wayland would be his.


End file.
